


The Scars You Gave Me

by KatieComma



Category: MacGyver (TV 2016)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Angst, Description of Injuries, M/M, Soulmate - Hurt and Damage Transfers, Soulmate AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-21
Updated: 2021-02-21
Packaged: 2021-03-19 01:54:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 6,252
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29618784
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KatieComma/pseuds/KatieComma
Summary: The first day Mac meets Jack Dalton they get into a fist fight.A fist fight that leaves identical bruises on each of their bodies.A fist fight that tells them what they really didn't want to know: they're soulmates.
Relationships: Jack Dalton/Angus MacGyver (MacGyver TV 2016)
Comments: 53
Kudos: 71





	1. 64 Days

**Author's Note:**

  * For [NatalieRyan](https://archiveofourown.org/users/NatalieRyan/gifts).



> Thanks for the prompt NatalieRyan!!!
> 
> This one was a BLAST!
> 
> Prompt: d...amage done to a person also translates into their soulmate’s body (cuts, bruises and all).

Mac has just had the worst day in recent memory. He’s fresh on reassignment in Afghanistan after watching Pena die, when it should have been him. And because Mac’s luck fucking sucks, his new overwatch is a bully and a total shithead.

Jack Dalton is arrogant and pigheaded and so ready to start a fight with anyone that he and Mac were scrambling on the ground together the moment they met, punching and grappling. All because Mac had been trying to help.

But isn't that how Mac always gets hurt? Just trying to help. He’d been just trying to help when he’d dropped out of school and signed up with the army. He’d hurt his grandfather, his dad, and now here he's covered in bruises because his new overwatch is a dick.

Everybody else is at dinner in the mess, but Mac hung back. He didn’t want to show any weakness to Jack, but he needs to check on his bruises; make sure it's nothing serious.

He sits down on his bunk, and peels the sweaty t-shirt over his head. He’s got a few bruises on his arms that aren’t too bad, but the one on his ribs is pretty purple, although he doesn’t remember getting hit there.

But Mac’s used to bruises. He’s spent his whole life covered in bruises and scars, sporting broken bones and cuts. All thanks to the soulmate he’s never met.

“Hey Angus, you in here?” Jack’s voice calls out just as he walks into the tent. “I wanted to apologize,” he keeps talking as he walks up to Mac’s bunk.

Mac grabs his shirt and starts to pull it on.

“Hold up there hoss,” Jack says, concern colouring his Texas accent.

Mac doesn’t listen and pulls his shirt on. “What? What do you want? Can’t you leave me in peace for, like, five minutes.”

“Hey MacGyver, I’m serious, that bruise looks somethin’ serious, let me see,” Jack coaxes, kneeling down next to Mac’s bunk.

Mac sighs, knowing it’s a losing battle by the tone in Jack’s voice. He lifts the shirt a little to show the dark purple bruising around his ribs.

“That don’t look so great man and I…” Jack pauses.

Mac looks down and sees Jack staring intently at the bruise. “What?”

“No,” Jack says, sounding almost horrified as he sits back on his feet, shaking his head. “Oh, no, no. You gotta be kidding me!”

“What?!” Mac barks at him, pulling his shirt back down so he doesn’t feel exposed anymore. “What is your _problem_.”

“I’ll show you my problem hoss,” Jack says. He leans back and pulls up his shirt, showing a bruise over his ribs in the same area Mac’s is.

“What?” Mac is confused.

“It’s the same bruise man,” Jack says.

“Woah,” Mac shakes his head. “No it’s not. No.”

Jack nods. “You got any others?” Jack pulls up the sleeve of his t-shirt to reveal a lighter bruise on his bicep. “Maybe here?”

Mac shakes his head, but pulls up the sleeve of his shirt to show a matching bruise. Exactly the same size, shape and colour.

“No,” Mac feels his face fill with disappointment. This is it. The moment everyone talks about: meeting your soulmate. And Mac’s soulmate is Jack Dalton. But it would make everything make sense. All the bruises and scars and wounds he had growing up; Jack’s older than Mac and he’s been in the military. Mac had spent his life hoping his soulmate was a daring adventurer and that’s where the injuries came from.

“Well don’t look so damn excited Carl’s Junior,” Jack says in retaliation, scowling. “It ain’t my ideal either.”

“I didn’t mean…”

“Come on then,” Jack says, standing up and holding out a hand for Mac to take. “Let’s get some ice on these bruises. Mine is drivin’ me nuts.”

Mac takes Jack’s offered hand and lets himself be pulled to his feet. “Don’t do that,” he says quietly.

“Don’t do what?” Jack asks, leading the way out of the barracks.

“Just because we’re…” Mac can’t even say the word. “Don’t treat me any differently.”

Jack shakes his head. “You’re pretty damn stubborn you know?” He says as they make their way through the dark little streets of the base. “Don’t worry, I ain’t gonna treat you any different. Just cause the universe says one thing don’t mean I gotta listen. But it also doesn’t mean we can’t try to get along. We gotta work together everyday.”

Mac doesn’t say another word, and they both go to separate nurses in the med tent to make sure no one notices their matching bruises.


	2. 48 Days

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mac just has to last 48 more days before Jack is out of his life.
> 
> Too bad he's such a clutz.

It’s been a long two days. Mac’s exhausted, barely slept, and the trip back to base in the hummer isn’t exactly smooth enough to take a nap. He’s constantly braced against the dash as Jack navigates what used to be a road. It’s not Jack’s fault, he’s doing the best he can, but the road is rutted and full of potholes.

They still haven’t told anyone their little secret. Soulmates. Neither of them have said it out loud. But Mac’s noticed a couple things since the revelation; a few scars Jack has that Mac shares. They look different on Jack’s tanned weathered skin. There’s a distinctive bullet-hole scar on his right side. On _their_ right sides. And there’s a long scar running across his back that he wants to ask Jack about but is afraid to know.

So they keep things professional, and avoid being treated for any wounds at the same time, however small. They never shower together. No one can know. Mac knows what happens when soulmates find each other; when everyone around them finds out: there’s a celebration. The whole base would throw a party for them and congratulate them. Mac doesn’t want to celebrate. He’s a man in crisis. He feels like his life is spiralling out of his control and he just wants off the ride. First Pena, which was his fault, and now Jack. Mac feels dizzy with it. The army was supposed to give him structure and purpose. Not… this.

Jack seems to be of the same mind, because he drops right into the habit of avoiding people seeing them shirtless together, and going to the med tent at different times. They don’t even need to talk about it.

The truck jostles Mac one more time before Jack pulls onto a smoother road. The base is in sight. Finally. Mac can’t wait to fall into his bunk and sleep for a solid day. Or however long he’s allowed to have.

Jack parks the truck in the line up of vehicles on the west side of the base and shuts the engine down. They both just sit for a moment, staring out the windshield. Mac feels like he’s still rocking on the suspension, his body wobbly.

Mac unclips his helmet and pulls it off, shaking his sweaty hair around.

“I am gonna sleep for a damn week,” Jack says.

Mac makes a noise of agreement. They glance at each other, and each of them almost smile before they seem to remember that they don’t like each other.

The door creaks when Mac pushes it open. As he moves to duck out and back into the hot day, still a little wobbly, he knocks his head against the frame of the hummer; hard.

“Son of a bitch!” Jack calls from the other side of the truck, where he’s waiting for Mac so they can walk back to the barracks together like they’ve started doing. “What the hell man?”

Mac finally makes his way out of the truck and slams the door, his head aching already. “Sorry man,” he says. “Hit my head.”

Jack walks around front bumper. “Man. 48 days left in this hellhole, and I can just tell you’re gonna be the death’a me before I get back on that plane to Texas.” He pulls off his gloves and tosses them onto the hood with the rest of his gear.

“It’s fine, not a big deal,” Mac says. “Sorry.”

“Naw, man, it ain’t fine,” Jack says. “Don’t lie to me cause I can feel it right here.” He knocks on his own helmet, still on his head. “Can’t lie to me about this stuff.”

Mac doesn’t tell Jack that he’s spent too much of his life lying about injuries; if they hurt, if he’s scared. He learned early in his life that being damaged and scarred was part of who he was, and it wasn’t worth letting his parents worry more than they already were.

“Come on, let me see,” Jack says, stepping closer. “Didn’t feel like a love tap that’s for sure.”

Mac’s eyes meet Jack’s at the comment, but neither of them say anything. Instead Jack takes Mac’s cheeks in his hands and tips his head down so he can get a look.

“Not bleedin’,” Jack says, his breath warm on Mac’s face. “Looks like you’re gonna have a mighty goose egg though.” He runs his fingers over Mac’s head. He’s gentle, but Mac still hisses at the sharp burst of pain.

“Be a little more careful, alright?” Jack says softly. “I wanna get home in one piece.”

Mac just nods, unsure what to say. This gentleness from Jack is new.

They walk back to the barracks together in silence, and though Jack continues to treat him just the same, things feel a little different between them.


	3. 36 Days

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 36 days until Jack goes home.

“How many days you got left Dalton?” Miller asks.

“36,” Jack says. “And ain’t it sweet.” He knocks on the tabletop to avoid jinxing himself.

Jack and a few of the other guys are sitting around playing poker on a little makeshift table they managed to scrounge up. They play for sticks of gum and quarters and candy bars and whatever other little bits and pieces they can get together.

Mac lays in his bunk reading the Stephen Hawking paperback he brought. The only book he brought. He’s read it about a dozen times since he enlisted, and it’s become like a security blanket. It helps him unwind and relax at the end of the day as he slips into theories about the universe that make his existence and time in Afghanistan seem infinitesimal. It makes it bearable somehow.

“You sure you don’t want in on this?” Bennet calls from the table. “MacGyver?”

Mac looks up from his book. They’ve never invited him to the game before.

Jack scowls a little, but doesn’t look in Mac’s direction, focused on his cards instead.

“No, I’m good, thanks,” he says with a kind smile. “Ate all my chocolate bars anyway, so I don’t have a stake.”

“I’d stake you Carl’s Junior,” Jack says instantly, still not looking at him.

Mac smiles. “Maybe next time.”

“Suit yourself,” Miller says, picking up his hand.

Mac can’t seem to get back into his book, distracted by the game, and the banter between the men. So sue him if he’s more focused on what Jack’s talking about; the guy’s his soulmate, of course he’s curious.

“You know what I miss most about Texas boys?” Jack asks, as he throws in two cards and asks for two more.

“You talk a lot about your mother’s biscuits,” Bennet supplies.

Jack shakes his head.

“You got a special lady or gent back home?” Miller asks next. “That’d be somethin’ to miss.”

Jack’s eyes flick toward Mac, but their gazes don’t quite catch before Jack’s eyes are back on his cards. “Nope.”

Garcia pipes up next. He’s usually quiet, doesn’t say much. “How about a special goat you miss on that farm’a yours?” He snickers.

The rest of the guys all burst out laughing, and Mac can’t help a little chuckle that he hides inside his book.

“Oh ha ha Garcia,” Jack scowls playfully at him. “She was a donkey actually, and she’s quite a nice gal.”

They all fall into a bout of laughter and jostling that keeps them going for a while.

“Naw,” Jack says, looking at the wall of the tent like he can look past it all the way to Texas. “The grass.”

“Grass?” Miller asks. “You’re telling me, if someone brought you a big tray with a cheeseburger and a cold beer on it, you’d choose grass instead?”

Jack laughs. “Well I won’t have to choose now will I?” He says. “Never thought I’d hate sand so much. You’ll never see me at the beach again. I’m gonna go back to the ranch and walk out in the grass in my bare feet.”

“And step in some cow shit,” Bennet says.

“Probably,” Jack says. “Rather step in cow shit than back out into that desert.” He lays his cards down. “Two pair. Jacks and nines.”

The rest lay their cards out and grouse over Jack winning another hand.

“Damnit Dalton!” Bennet growls and punches Jack playfully on the arm. Playful, but still hard.

“Ow,” Mac says instinctively under his breath, feeling a spot of pain bloom on his bicep where Bennet punched Jack.

“You say somethin’ over there EOD?” Miller asks.

“Uh, no… paper cut,” he says lamely, holding his book up for them to see before sucking his pointer finger into his mouth to complete the charade. The dull pain of the blooming bruise on his arm is already sore, and he curses Jack’s good luck at poker.

“Never saw somebody hurt himself on a book before,” Bennet jokes.

Jack looks the other way and distracts the guys by dealing out another hand and calling out: “double or nothin’ boys.”


	4. 29 Days

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 29 days until Jack leaves.
> 
> Jack and Mac have a bit of a heart to heart.

The rest of the guys are sparring for fun. Keep in shape and beat each other up, who doesn’t think that’s a recipe for a good time?

Mac. That’s who. He’ll work out. He’ll keep in shape. But he doesn’t see the point of beating up on his fellow soldiers. Not to mention the fact that every time Jack gets hit it’ll be a dead giveaway that they’re soulmates. Despite all the injuries his whole life, Mac’s never been good at hiding the initial pain. He can pretend after, but the surprise of an injury you didn’t see coming isn’t something he’s been able to adjust to. Not even with a lifetime of practice.

So instead, Mac wanders off and finds a quiet place to sit. Just sit. No book. No music. Just the muffled sounds of the base going on around him. It’s getting dark, dinner’s already been served, so he takes a seat on a bench outside the food storage container. Since it’s a locked container, it’s not guarded like the munitions storage is. So there’s no one nearby.

There are footsteps close by, and Mac tenses up out of habit. They’re at the heart of the base, it’s unlikely it would be anyone sinister. And yet, he’s always on his guard now, it seems to be his default.

Jack rounds the container and sees him, boots scratching in the dust as he walks over and takes a seat on the old creaky bench. “There you are,” he says. “Wondered where you got off to?”

“Thought you were fighting,” Mac says, relaxing again, and leaning back against the steel container.

“Naw,” Jack replied. “Seems like a bad idea now that we know…” he trails off and motions between the two of them. They still haven’t said it out loud. “Just makes things obvious, you know?”

“Sorry,” Mac says. “I know you liked it. Sparring with the guys.”

Jack shakes his head and leans back next to Mac, their shoulders touching. “Just somethin’ to keep busy, that’s all. Waitin’ is hard if you don’t have nothin’ to do. Don’t have a book to read over and over again.” He says the last with a hint of amusement in his tone.

Mac turns his head to find Jack smiling at him. Actually smiling. And they’re not putting on a show for anyone, there’s no one around.

“Well, you’d have to learn to read first,” Mac jokes, returning the smile.

“Oh ha ha,” Jack says, but his smile gets wider.

They sit in silence for a minute. But then Jack breaks it. “I always wondered who you were, you know?” He says. “I remember this one time, I must’a been twenty five or so, and I woke up in the middle’a the night one night with these burns all up and down my arms. Before that it had all been, skinned knees and little cuts here and there. Standard stuff. But these burns man, they hurt somethin’ awful. Blistered and everything. I ended up going to the med tent when I couldn’t take it no more and they told me it was a chemical burn.”

Mac laughs. “I remember that. I got an advanced chem set when I was ten, for my birthday, and I stayed up all night playing with it. I was a little too tired and I mixed up some vials.” Mac laughs again. “It hurt so bad. Oh man.”

Jack’s shoulder shakes against Mac’s as he laughs along too.

Their laughter dies down and they sit in silence again.

Mac thinks back on his injuries and his childhood. “I always imagined you were an adventurer or something,” he admits before he can convince himself not to. “My parents were always worried. They never said anything, but I could tell. The serious injuries started when I was about three or four. I don’t even remember not having to deal with it. I knew my friends at school didn’t have the same kinds of issues. But it always made me think maybe you were an adventurer. Exploring caves and jungles and being attacked by leopards and snakes.” He smiles wide at the thought. It had always brought him comfort, even as an adult. “My leg would break and I would think: oh no, they’ve fallen into a cave system, how will they get out? I started to make these stories up in my head. One time you were captured by pirates. That was when I was six and ended up with the first bullet wound.” He smiles and raises an eyebrow at Jack.

Jack, who looks horrified. There are tears in his wide eyes, and his mouth has dropped open a little. He holds his hand up as though he wants to touch Mac, but is afraid.

Mac sits up and turns toward Jack. “Oh, I didn’t mean to…”

Jack shakes his head and swallows heavily. “You were so young,” he says, almost to himself. “I didn’t even think about what it meant that you’re so much younger than me.” He sags back against the container and closes his eyes. A few tears trickle down his cheeks, changing course at his scruff. “Oh god I didn’t know. I didn’t mean…” He lets out a little whimper before he goes on. “I thought I was helpin’ people. And you were just…”

Mac puts a hand on his shoulder. “Jack, it’s ok. We are who we are. That’s how this all works, you know that. You don't get to pick who you're...” He tries to make something good of it. “You were helping people Jack. And that’s important. How many people have you saved in your career? And you helped me dream. About exploring and pirates and…” He’s trying to think what else. “Saving the world. It’s part of the reason I’m here now, you know?”

Jack tries to smile, but it looks terrible on him when he’s so miserable. He opens his eyes a little though. “Yeah? How’s that?”

“I wanted to be like you,” Mac admits. “I couldn’t look ahead at a life sitting in a lab or behind a desk and think it would ever be enough for me. Not when my… not when you were out there having all these amazing adventures.” They still haven’t said the word, like they’re both afraid of it.

“Tell me about…” Jack gulps. “The big one.” He motions to his own back, and Mac knows he means the big scar running across their backs.

“It wasn’t so bad actually,” Mac says. “I was at my grandpa’s house and he’s pretty good with first aid. So he had me patched up right away and took me to the hospital. We were in the middle of a game of chess.” He pauses and thinks. “The worst one was probably…” he traces up from his hair line to the crown of his head. “I guess I was twelve. We were out on recess and my scalp just opened up and there was blood all down my face. That’s head wounds though, they bleed a lot. It wasn’t really a very bad cut, it just scared everybody. I don’t even have a scar from that one.”

Without warning Jack pulls him into a hug, but it’s loose at first as though he’s expecting Mac to pull away from him. Mac sinks into it. Somehow he understands that Jack needs this. He knows why Jack would feel bad. He would too if their positions were reversed. Knowing that some kid had been sharing your injuries since he was three years old would be a bit traumatizing.

Jack’s crying again, Mac’s shoulder is wet. “God I’m so sorry man,” he says. “I hope you can forgive me one day.”

Mac finally wraps his arms around Jack. “Done,” he says.


	5. 16 Days

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just 16 days before Jack leaves, and he's deployed without Mac for a scouting mission.

They’re short on men for scouting parties, so Jack gets sent out without Mac.

Mac sits restlessly in his bunk trying to focus on reading the book he’s read too many times. Instead he wants to throw it across the room.

He’s spent twenty one years being apart from Jack. And now it’s like some kind of torture. He can’t think about anything else but Jack and what he’s doing and where he is.

He tells himself over and over that it’s just a scouting mission. They’re just driving around and they’ll be fine.

It was so different when Jack was a character in Mac’s head. Every injury meant some kind of adventure, but he was the hero of Mac’s dreams so he would always recover, everything would always be fine. He knew it in his bones.

But now… Jack’s mortal.

And that’s when it happens.

Mac’s laying in his bunk, staring up at the book in his hands, but looking right through it, when there’s a painful grinding and a small wet popping sound in his left shoulder. The pain punches the air from his chest and Mac can’t breathe for a few seconds. His left arms flops limply to the bed and he drops the book to the floor. And then the pain in his shoulder shoots sharply through his body and he gasps.

Jack! 

Mac panics and starts breathing hard. From the pain and his panicky breathing his vision starts to go dark around the edges. He forces himself to breathe slow and long, wincing against the pain in his shoulder with each tiny movement of his body. He's become an expert at dealing with unexpected pain. His left shoulder has been dislocated before. Twice before to be exact. He knows what it feels like.

With deep slow breaths, and matching slow movements, Mac tries not to think about Jack and instead slowly gets up from his bunk. The second he’s on his feet the pain surges again, and his vision blurs and goes a little dark. But he keeps breathing and steadies himself against the corner of the bed. He waits until his vision clears and then walks slowly to the med tent.

It’s a few hours later when they bring Jack in on a stretcher. He complains the entire way.

“It’s just a dislocated shoulder,” Jack shouts. “Stop fussin’. I could’a walked on my own.”

His arm is already in a sling that matches Mac’s, which means his shoulder is already back in place.

Jack ends up in the bed next to Mac’s even though the rest of the place is pretty much empty and they could have put him anywhere.

“I think the jig’s up hoss,” Jack jokes with a smile. When he looks at Mac’s face he sits up a little more.

Mac’s throat feels like it’s lodged with cotton balls. He looks away from Jack’s dirt-smeared face and back to the ceiling of the tent. His eyes are hot. Why is he so emotional?

“You ok Mac?” Jack asks.

Mac just nods, and wills the tears away, waiting to try and speak until his eyes feel somewhat normal again. “I was scared,” he whispers. “It’s never scared me like that before.” He still won’t look at Jack’s face, afraid he’ll start blubbering like an idiot.

“Different cause you know me now I suppose,” Jack says. “I’m real now. You can put a face the injury.”

Mac nods. “I was so scared,” he repeats.

“It’s alright man,” Jack says. “I’m back now. How d’you think I’m gonna feel in sixteen days when I get on that plane back to the US of A and you’re still here without me on your six?”

Mac glances at Jack and sees his face go pale at his own question.

They both lay in silence and stare at the ceiling of the tent.


	6. 0 Days

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jack's tour is over.

Mac’s sitting in the driver’s seat of the hummer waiting for his new overwatch.

Jack will be on a plane back to the states by now, probably sleeping his way across the ocean.

Mac thought he would feel the distance somehow, now that he’s met Jack and knows him. But he feels the same.

They talked about it before Jack left: they exchanged numbers and agreed to meet stateside when Mac was done his tour so they could figure things out between them. What it means or doesn’t mean.

They still haven’t said the word.

Mac wonders what it means. He’s come to not-hate Jack Dalton. Maybe even like the guy. Ok, yeah, so he likes the guy. That doesn’t mean anything. Mac is a man of science. He doesn’t believe in pure destiny. A lot of people never meet their soulmate, and still live happy fulfilled lives; like his mom and dad. A soulmate doesn’t guarantee happiness.

Mac twists a paperclip in his fingers and waits. He wonders if his new overwatch will put up with his weird paperclip sculptures the way that Jack did.

The crackle of the radio interrupts his thoughts.

“Snakebite-one-one, this is Snakebite-zero-three. You’re clear to roll.”

Mac clicks the radio on. “This is Snakebite-one-one. Love to, but I probably shouldn’t fly solo. Still waiting on my new cover. Over.”

Command comes back: “Thought you were with Dalton.”

That sends a shock of loss through Mac’s core that he didn’t expect. He shakes it off and replies. “I was. But he finished his tour this morning and shipped out. Over.”

“Copy. Let me see who you’ve been assigned. Hang on.”

Jack’s voice comes in through the passenger side window and startles Mac into dropping his paperclip. “What kind of a name is Angus?” Jack barks, mirroring their first meeting.

“Jack?” Mac asks, more grateful than he remembers being about anything before. 

“In the flesh,” Jack replies, seeming a little uneasy or nervous. As though he’s wondering if he’s welcome.

“I thought you went home.”

Jack smiles wide and opens the passenger door to climb in. “Well, almost did. It’s a funny thing,” he says as he sits down in the passenger seat, all his gear on, ready to roll. “There I was, boardin’ my transport. Just fifteen hours between me and the great state’a Texas when it hit me: that poor little bomb nerd with the silly hamburger name ain’t gonna make it two days in the sandbox without me watchin’ his back. And see that’s just me watchin’ my back too you know?” There’s a joking lilt to the last sentence.

Mac’s jaw falls open. He’s not sure what to say.

“So I turned around, walked off that plane and signed up for another tour. On the condition that I’m paired up with you of course,” Jack says. His eyes soften. “Since the shoulder, it’s on our record now that we’re… well… you know… and they agreed to pair us up no problemo señor.” There it is again. The unsaid word. It’s on their files now. It’s on the record. And they still can’t say it.

“I… well…” Mac’s stuck for something to say. He’s never been good with words when it counts. “Thanks man,” is all he can think to say. He knows it’s not enough, but Jack doesn’t look disappointed, his smile just widens, as though he knows Mac doesn’t have the words. “Here we go I guess,” Mac says.

Jack nods, his face getting a little somber. “Here we go,” his warm brown eyes are full of things unsaid.

They knock fists between them, and Mac starts they truck and they roll out together.

Together.


	7. Epilogue - Texas

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After their done they head back to the states and figure things out.

Mac laughs as he watches Jack walk around barefoot in the grass along the stream.

“What are you laughin’ at me for?” Jack asks running back toward Mac along the bank.

“You really weren’t lying about the grass, huh?” Mac asks as he takes a sip of his beer and digs their sandwiches out of the backpack next to him.

“Jack Dalton never lies,” Jack replies, sitting down on the bank next to Mac. “I spent a lotta years’a my youth runnin’ around out here.” He motions out to the ranch land they can see on the other side of the stream. It stretches wide and long all the way back to the Dalton Family Ranch house in the distance. Jack insisted they cross the stream to get the best view, and he wasn’t wrong. Mac’s feet are still tingly from the cold water.

“It’s beautiful,” Mac admits.

“And yes, smart ass, I did miss the grass,” Jack says, taking the beer Mac passes to him and popping it open.

“Thanks for bringing me here,” Mac says.

For some reason, the idea of being parted from Jack had been… a lot. So Jack had stopped in LA with him to visit his grandfather, and then they’d made their way back to Texas to stay with Jack’s family for a few weeks.

“Well I want my… I wanted to show you where I come from you know?” Jack says.

Mac passes Jack a sandwich wrapped up in wax paper. Made by Mama Dalton herself. Neither of them open their lunch. The silence between them is comfortably filled by the gurgling of the little stream. It’s a kind of peace that Mac never thought he’d have again on some of the worse days in Afghanistan. Over there it seemed impossible.

“Mac, listen, we gotta talk,” Jack says. “And I wanna do it out here away from prying ears. Just us.”

“Sure,” Mac says, swallowing heavily and turning to face Jack. “What about?”

Jack’s face is pale and he’s looking at the sandwich in his hands, turning it over and over. He looks like he’s about to face a firing squad. “Listen man, I know things started out a bit rocky between us.”

“Understatement of the century,” Mac says, trying to lighten the mood.

Jack doesn’t bite, and just barrels ahead as though he’s been rehearsing. “But I’d like to think we’ve become friends you know? And I just… I’m just gonna lay it out, alright? Platonic soulmates are pretty common. We could do that I think. We like each other well enough to… buy houses on the same block and raise our families together and all that.”

It’s the first time either of them has used the word, and Mac’s heart feels like it’s been carved out of his chest. He hadn’t expected the word platonic to come before the unsaid word in any sentence; he’d never even considered it. Platonic soulmates are really common. But it’s not what Mac wants. When Mac imagined his heroic soulmate off on adventures, he always knew that someday he’d be standing side by side with them, ready to jump into a volcano, or fight pirates, or… disarm bombs. He always knew they’d be together. In all ways.

Sure, he never made a move on Jack or said anything. But they were in combat. It wasn’t the right time. And it seemed like they should be able to say the word first before they could decide what they meant to each other.

“That’s not what I want,” Mac blurts out. “Is that what you want?”

Jack finally looks up from the sandwich and meets Mac’s eye; there’s hope and excitement deep in his warm eyes, but the wariness is closer to the surface. “No,” Jack admits. “I think that’d damn near kill me. To watch you… be happy with someone else.”

“I sense a but,” Mac says, but with a smile.

“But I ain’t no spring chicken Mac,” Jack says, eyes travelling back across the stream and rolling fields.

“I don’t care,” Mac says honestly.

“I don’t want you stuck with some old man for the rest of your life and-”

“It’s not your decision Jack,” Mac says. “I don’t want you to make this decision based on what you think I want or need. What do _you_ want?”

Jack meets Mac’s eye, and looks confused, as though no one has ever asked him what he wanted before.

“You,” Jack admits. “I just wanna be close to you Mac. Be with you.”

“Me too,” Mac replies, smiling and feeling his face heat up with a blush like he’s in high school again. “Let’s just… do that then.” Mac sets his beer down, but the bank is steep, the ground uneven and the bottle tips over and spills his beer out into the grass. Mac doesn’t care. He shuffles over to Jack so there’s barely any space between them. He puts a hand to Jack’s scruffy face, loving the prickly feel under his palm.

“Mac,” Jack says softly. It sounds like a plea and a question and a content sigh all at once.

Mac leans forward slowly, so Jack has time to back out if things are moving too fast.

When their lips meet, a surprise tear sneaks out of Mac’s eye and drips down his cheek. Until that moment he actually wasn’t sure if he’d ever get to be with his hero. But he does, and it makes him so happy he doesn’t know what to do with the emotion.

Jack’s hand is suddenly at the side of Mac’s throat, fingers gripping at the nape of his neck to pull him just a little closer.

They open their mouths and taste each other. Jack whimpers into Mac’s mouth.

Mac pulls back and Jack’s fingers dig in for only a second as though they won’t let him go, and then Jack relents and their lips part.

“I just…” Mac says, a little out of breath. “I want us to move slow though. Is that ok?”

“Slow…” Jack repeats the word like he’s in a daze and doesn’t really know what it means.

Mac sits back a little more and takes his hand away from Jack's cheek, but he grabs Jack’s hand and laces their fingers together so they’re still touching. “I haven’t had a lot of relationships,” Mac admits. “I’ve never been… great… with people. So I just… can we do this right? And move slow. I don’t want to miss everything. The first date. The excitement of just making out. All that stuff.”

“So what you’re sayin’ is you don’t want to just jump into bed,” Jack concludes, body relaxing a little. He was more careful when he set his beer down, and it’s still full. He picks it up and takes a sip before passing it to Mac.

Mac nods and takes a sip. He’s nervous this will be a no-go for Jack. The guy’s so experienced, no doubt he’s had a ton of relationships, or even one night stands. “If that’s ok?”

“Yeah, we got our whole lives don’t we?” Jack says easily.

Mac smiles. “Yeah. We do.” He passes the bottle back to Jack.

“Well alright then, it’s settled,” Jack says with a wink. “I’m gonna romance you like I plan to keep you.”

Mac smiles and ducks his head a little.

They sit and look back over the ranch.

“So what do we do next?” Jack asks. “And I don’t mean with… you and me… I just mean. Wherever we go, we’re going together, right? So where is that? And what are we gonna do?”

Mac sighs and settles in next to Jack, where he feels like he fits so perfectly already. “I don’t know. I feel like it should be something where we don’t get shot at though. I’d like a break from that for a while, you know?”

Jack smiles and nods. “I agree,” he says as he deftly opens his sandwich with one hand, seemingly unwilling to let go of Mac’s hand.

“Well, there was an offer at my grandpa’s house from a think tank in LA,” Mac supplies. “DSX I think it was called. Maybe I could look into that. You could find work in LA, right?”

“Oh yeah,” Jack says.

“Cool,” Mac replies. “It’s a place to start, right? We could even stay with my grandpa until we find a place… or places.” He’s still nervous about this. How exactly will it work?

“Sounds great,” Jack says. “DSX, huh? Never heard of ‘em.”


End file.
